


A Family Misunderstanding

by NorthernWall



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist - All Media Types, Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood & Manga
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-22
Updated: 2017-11-22
Packaged: 2019-02-05 13:38:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,242
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12795726
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NorthernWall/pseuds/NorthernWall
Summary: What should be a pleasant family vacation is turned on it's head when the Armstrongs get the wrong idea about their daughter's special guest.





	A Family Misunderstanding

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! Sorry this is so late, I deleted and rewrote half of it today.
> 
> Happy reading!

“I don’t know why you’re being so stubborn about this.” Olivier scowled at her adjutant without pausing in her writing, eyes flicking up from the paper and then back down almost immediately. “It’s just your family.” She crossed the last ‘t’ with an emphatic striking motion and slammed the paper into her outbox. “Olivier.”

“If you like them so much, you go.”

“You know I’d like to.”

This time, her hand stilled on the page and she raised her head from her work. “What?”

Miles hesitated at her angry tone, “the chalet doesn’t matter to me, but your family-” he broke off, shaking his head. “Well.”

“What about my family?” She was watching him with curious expression on her face.

Heartened by her lack of apparent anger, he continued “I understand about the secrecy, but your family not knowing feels like you’re ashamed.”

“Miles-”

“I know, I know!” He put up his hands, “it’s just a silly idea I get sometimes.”

Oh, alright then.” Olivier reached into her drawer and produced an envelope and card. She checked a box on the card, and shoved it into the envelope.

“Wait, what are you doing?”

“I’m replying to my parents.” She sealed the envelope firmly and tossed it onto the outbox.

“What are you saying to them?”

“That I’ll be attending and bringing a special guest.”

“Olivier,” Miles jumped up from his desk and reached for the envelope. “I didn’t mean to guilt you into anything-”

Olivier slammed a hand over the envelope. “You didn’t.”

“Oli-”

“I’m going and you’re coming with me. That’s final.” He hovered at the edge of her desk, and she softened, “I don’t ever want you to feel ashamed. And certainly not because of me.”

“I know. But, I also know how little you want to go. I don’t want you to be miserable on my account.”

She reached for his hand, “Miles you are the best thing that’s ever happened to me, and if I want to parade you around like the world’s most adorable trophy husband, then I will. And I won’t be miserable: you’ll be there.”

\---

A chauffeur met them in North City. The process of the two of them leaving the Fort together had been rather arduous, and Miles was grateful he wasn’t expected to drive all the way to the Armstrong family’s mountain chalet. They rode in silence, fingers intertwined.

When the chalet came into view, Miles gasped in spite of himself. In the letter describing their recent purchase of a vacation home, Olivier’s parents had described the chalet as “quaint and cottage-like”. It was at least three stories high, and each floor had an elaborate deck all the way around. He stared, fascinated, as she rolled her eyes.

The chauffeur carried their luggage and Miles wasn’t sure what to do with his hands. He’d already squeezed Olivier’s so tightly on the drive over he was afraid they’d be bruised. She took his hand back, anyway, giving him a reassuring smile.

“Madame Olivier,” a Butler greeted them, and Miles resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Olivier didn’t. “Your family has not yet arrived, I understand there was a delay on the train line, but I’ll be happy to show you two to your rooms.”

“Room.”

“I beg your pardon, Madam?” The butler had obviously heard her, but there was a look of polite incredulity on his face, as though offering her the chance to reconsider.

“Miles and I require only one room.”

“Apologies, Madame. I was under the impression a special guest would be joining you.” He didn’t say it, but the way his nose wrinkled as he looked Miles up and down made it plain he didn’t consider Miles to be in anyway special.

“Miles is my special guest, you half-witted son of a goat.” Olivier snarled, stepping closer to the butler, face set in furious glare. If not for the extent of her rage, it would have made a comedic image: the petite general glaring up at the butler who was nearly as tall as Miles himself.

“Of course, Madam.” The butler nodded, an expression of faint disapproval still on his face, but he led them up two flights of stairs to their room without further comment. Looking around, Miles felt “rooms” would have been a better term for the massive suite that would be serving as their home for the duration of the vacation. An attempt had been made to give the area a suitably “rustic” feel, but the expensive furniture and decor gave off the distinct impression of the type of wealth that thought giving the staff a vacation and having to make your own lunch was “roughing it”.

“I’m sorry Miles, I’d have him fired but his family has been serving mine for generations.”

Miles smiled calmly, “it isn’t your fault, Liv. I’ll try to stay out of his way.”

“He’s only here to open the house,” Olivier reassured, “once my parents arrive he’ll take his leave, and we’ll be left to our own devices,” her mouth turned up in a smirk that was neither cruel nor mirthful, “like common peasants.”

Miles shook his head and began unpacking. Even in a civilian setting, they hung their clothes and ordered their belongings with military precision. With that finished, they decided to settle in for a nap. The suite had its own fireplace, and Miles watched the dancing flames as he lay in the fourposter, arms wrapped around Olivier who snored gently. 

He was glad she slept easily, the stress of leaving Buccaneer in charge of Briggs even for a week had kept her from it for some time, and he worried about her health. She snuffled slightly, and he nestled closer, resting his chin on the top of her head. She slept in a curled position and he was more than happy to coil around her, drawing warmth and strength from her.

\---

“Livvie!” Someone was shouting and rattling the door handle, “come out! I want to see you!”

Olivier groaned, rolling over to check the time before begrudgingly going to open the door. In a moment of panic, Miles rolled off the bed and darted into the open closet, pulling the door nearly shut behind him.

“What?” Olivier snarled at the young woman she found on the other side of the door.

“Livvie!” Catherine threw herself at her older sister with a squeal of delight. “I know you were napping, but I just had to see you!” Miles watched through the crack in the door as she glanced around the room in what she obviously hoped was a subtle way, “it’s really tidy in here,” she noted as though disappointed.

“Tch! What of it?”

Catherine grinned and threw herself down on the bed. “Mother said the butler was just making trouble, but I thought I’d check anyway.”

Olivier swore under her breath, “check what, Catherine?”

“He said you had a most unpleasant guest. An _Ishvalan!_ ” Catherine shook her head, “wouldn’t that be wild?! I know that he hasn’t really liked you since you spilled that soup on the carpet and it stained, and he had to scrub it out, but really! Father said you probably didn’t have a special guest, you just didn’t want us to think you couldn’t have one. And, well, you mustn’t have one because, you wouldn’t bring an Ishvalan here!”

Olivier’s shoulders were taut with tension, “and why wouldn’t I?”

The tone of her voice sent a shiver down Miles’ spine and he knew Buccaneer would be long gone, but Catherine chattered on obliviously. “Well, my friend Margarette had an Ishvalan servant and she said he was the most abhorrent thief! And my friend Jacqueline was mugged by an Ishvalan one time! She was so frightened she gave him her whole purse, even though it was brand new and cost a pretty penny.” Catherine hesitated, and leaned forward to whisper, “and this is probably horrid to say, but don’t their eyes frighten you? It isn’t natural, like a demon from hell or-”

There was a crack like a whip, and for a moment Olivier and Catherine stared at each other, Olivier’s hand still raised and Catherine holding her cheek. Tears welled up in her green eyes, and she opened her mouth, but whatever she had intended to say was drowned out by a scream. Miles had leapt out of the closet, the moment he’d seen Olivier raise her hand, but had been too late. Frozen in place, he realized suddenly he must have looked like a deranged murderer.

“Help! Help!” Catherine screamed shrilly, “help! Murder! Thief! Hel-”

Olivier clapped a hand over her sister’s mouth. “Catherine, shut your mouth right now or so help me-”

What sounded like an entire herd of elephants stomped into the room, shouting.

“Catherine!”

“I’ll save you with the self-defense technique that’s been passed down the Armstrong line for generations!”

“What’s wrong?”

Wordlessly, Catherine pointed a shaking finger at Miles. Her mother screamed and one of Olivier’s larger sisters grabbed him, pinning his arms behind his back.

“Let him go!”

“Oh, hello!” Alex blinked at him in surprised confusion, “it’s Major Miles.”

“I said let him go, Strongine!”

“Livvie, dear, what’s going on?”

Olivier rounded on her father, “Strongine has just assaulted my guest is what’s happened!”

“Why on earth did you bring your adjutant?”

“Because he’s my-”

“I see what’s happening.” Angelica Armstrong sighed, “Philip, sweetie, I’m afraid this is our fault.”

“What?” Olivier grit out. Miles’ shifted in Strongine’s grasp, feeling his arms losing circulation.

“If we hadn’t made you feel so pressured to find a husband you wouldn’t have felt like you needed to arrange this.”

“Excuse me?”

“Well, bringing someone to prove you could, and then bringing an-” she paused, giving Miles an apologetic glance, “well, nevermind that. I suppose this is just your way of getting back at us for giving you so much grief.”

Olivier’s face was red, and her arms, clenched at her sides, were trembling.

“Oh, don’t be so angry Livvie.” Amue soothed, “remember when Strongine brought home that punk with the dyed hair to upset Mother and Father? We all laughed it off later, and this’ll be the same.”

Miles’ watched Olivier’s face and wondered how her own family could so badly misinterpret her emotions. She wasn’t angry, at least that wasn’t the prominent emotion, she was humiliated. Strongine, probably embarrassed by her own indiscretion being brought up, released him and he rubbed his arms, wondering what to do.

“This isn’t some _prank_.” Olivier ground out, “Miles-”

“Has been through enough, poor dear.” Angelica shook her head, “really Olivier? Forcing your adjutant to participate in this farce? What were you thinking?” She turned to Miles, “what did she offer you? I’m sure we can compensate you, and then some for your discretion.”

Miles stared, a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach. Did they really think he could be bought? So lowly that he could be bribed to walk away?

“Mother-”

“Hush, Olivier, we can talk about this later. Now, young man, how much did she offer you?”

Miles bristled, he wasn’t used to be condescended to and he was not fond of it. All eyes in the room were fixed on him, except Olivier’s which were trained on the ground. 

He opened and shut his mouth a few times, but all that came out was a whisper.

“What was that? Speak up.”

He cleared his throat, “she offered me her hand in marriage.”

His statement was met by deafening silence.

“I offered you a bit more than that,” Olivier muttered. “I offered you all of me.”

“You can’t be serious?” Philip looked from one to the other, “the two of you aren’t really-? Surely?”

Miles took a deep breath. “We are, truly. I love Olivier more than life.” He stepped forward, red eyes narrowing, “How dare you, all of you, act like she isn’t good enough? Act like no one loves her? She’s incredible, she-” he stopped abruptly when Olivier reached out and grabbed his wrist. He glanced over his shoulder and she shook her head.

“Olivier-” her mother began but Olivier had had enough.

“Out!” She snarled, “Get out!”

“Liv-”

“I said _get out!_ ” Her roar of rage sent them scuttling out and as soon as the door closed she sank onto the bed, breathing heavily.

“I’m sorry.”

“What?”

“You didn’t want to come-”

“This isn’t your fault, Miles.” She shook her head and took a steadying breath, “they’ll come around. They’re shocked, but once they get to know you they’ll love you.”

“It doesn’t matter to me,” Miles sat beside her, wrapping his arms around her. “If they can’t accept me, I’m fine. It’s just for your sake that I worry.”

She shrugged. “They’ll come around, and if they don’t, then I don’t need them in my life.”

“They’re your family.”

She turned to him, “you’re my family, Miles. You and all the Briggs’ Bears. I don’t need anyone else.” He nodded, knowing words wouldn’t help. After what felt like hours, she got to her feet and held out her hand. “Come on, love, let’s go see if they’ve calmed down.”

Downstairs, the atmosphere was subdued, but her family was cordial and Miles could practically feel the force of their efforts to correct their misconceptions. They would still have a long ways to go, but they were on the right path. And for Miles, that was enough.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!
> 
> As always, please let me know what you think. <3


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